Wounds of Choice
by FoolForSpike
Summary: Spike is confronted by a mysterious figure who claims he has the power to neutralize his chip, but there's a price. Is the price too high? Set durring the summer between season 5 and 6 *WIP!*
1. Default Chapter

 SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1TITLE: "Wounds of Choice"

CATEGORY: Spike/Dawn friendship

SUMMARY:  Spike is confronted by a mysterious figure who claims he has the power to neutralize his chip, but there's a price.  Is the price too high?

RATING: PG-13 for violence, mild swearing, and mild sexual innuendos.

DISCLAIMER: The characters of BTVS are owned by Joss, A.K.A GOD, and M.E. and...well you know the drill.  

_AUTHOR'S NOTE: I would like to give my deepest gratitude and appreciation to Jackie, who guided me, offered ideas and suggestions, and all in all stuck with me through the many, many months it took me to write this, and the long nights of me yanking the hair out of my head in frustration.  THANKS JACKIE I COULDN'T HAVE DONE IT WITHOUT YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_

FEEDBACK: feedback would be greatly appreciated.  The good, the bad, the ugly, I can take it.  Comments, questions, suggestions, opinions, and constructive criticisms are welcomed and encouraged.  You can Email me at:    AmorFati323@cs.com

**"WOUNDS OF CHOICE"**

_"I fear I have nothing to give._

_I have so much to lose here in this lonely place,_

_Tangled up in our embrace._

_There's nothing I'd like better than to fall,_

_But I fear I have nothing to give."_

"I just can't do it.  It's hideous!" 

"I know this may be shock for a bird your age to see, but you've just gotta face it and give it your all." Spike said encouragingly to the overwhelmed 16 year old.

"But look at it!" she replied desperately, lines of terror appearing on her face.

"It's a nasty bugger, I know.  I haven't seen one this ugly for a good hundred years or so.  But the trick is not to let it intimidate you.  You've just gotta tackle it straight on. Frustration will only give it the upper hand."

Dawn sighed with disgust, slamming the pen down onto her notebook.

"I hate Trig.  Why do they call it a right triangle anyway?  Is there like, a wrong triangle somewhere?  And if there is, who decided which was which?  Besides, I can't even tell if I have the paper right side up." She pouted.  Spike picked up the piece of graph paper riddled with overlapping shapes and points of various kinds, and spun it around to examine from each angle with a look of hopeless confusion.  

"Oh, bugger it." he said a few moments later, realizing that he knew nothing what so ever about trig.  "It's not like you're ever gonna use this rubbish in the real world anyway." He reasoned matter of factly to the eagerly agreeing girl, but then, noticing Willow's glare from the doorway, decided on a better approach. "Except for when you're...ya know...applying it to all those...vital ...life skills...that you need...for...life."  He finished weakly, looking towards Willow for approval.  Dawn stared at him from across the table with an eyebrow raised in doubt.  Spike only sighed, and placed the math problem back in front of her.  "Why don't you give it another go Nibblet." She rolled her eyes up into her head  and picked up the pencil, vigorously erasing as he left the table.

"How's the homework goin?" Willow asked sympathetically.

"Well, that eraser's seen better days." Spike replied, watching Dawn growl at her paper with anger.  Willow chuckled in agreement.

"It's been hard for her..." she became solemn, looking on the girl with compassion.  "First her mom...then Buffy...her dad off God knows where..."  Spike nodded, looking awkwardly at the floor.

"If you guys are gonna talk about me, could you at least do it in a room that...I dunno...I'm not in?"  Dawn asked with annoyance at their hushed voices.  She couldn't decipher what they were saying but she knew it was about her.  She has grown used to the fact that when people were talking in low voices in this house, it was either about her, or about something they did not want her to hear.

"If you don't quit your snivelin and do your work, that arithmetic's gonna be the least of your worries.  Got it?" Spike advised sternly.

"Got it." She grumbled, turning back to the task at hand.

"Anyway," Willow continued.  "We were thinkin about taking the Buffy-bot out tonight...ya know, test her responses, see how she handles without back up.  Giles thinks it'd be a good idea to see if she's able to patrol with out us, incase some apocalypticie goodness arises and we cant be there to pick up the slack."

"Not a bad thought." he replied, peeking into the livingroom at Xander, Anya, and the Buffy-bot herself, who was being debriefed by a very exhausted looking librarian.  

"So, you up for a little Dawnie-sitting?  It's probably gonna be a late night." Willow asked.

"I suppose I could snag a bit of time outta my busy schedule of watching the tomb stones erode for that, yeah." he said, following her into the living room.  The Buffy bot spotted Spike as they entered, and before he could process what was happening, she had run to him, flinging her arms around his waist enthusiastically, and nuzzling him with her programmed love.

"Oh, Spike!" she cried with desperation.  "I missed your rock hard, and wanting body while it was gone!   And I'm so aroused now that you're here in my arms!  Would you like to touch my--"  

"Get away from me!" Spike shouted, wrenching away from the robot's cold grasp and coiling back several feet, as though touched by some revolting entity that would spread its disease.  Everyone jumped at the outburst, staring at him with alarm.  Spike looked around the room as if he'd just noticed that people occupied it, and then stormed angrily up to Willow, grasping her arm.   His cold fingers bit hard into her flesh. "That thing doesn't so much as look at me till you get all that bloody garbage out!" he demanded staring coldly into her eyes and pointing a shaking finger in Buffy Bot's direction.

"O-ok Spike.  It's ok.  I mean I'm still learning the code that Warren programed into her, but I'll take a look at it tomorrow...alright?" She said, trying to calm him down as everyone else looked to the floor.  Shooting one more fuming glace around at the others, he stalked out of the livingroom, slamming the door behind him.

"Spike?!" The bot called his name in utter devastation, and ran towards the door, but willow grabbed her back.  "Why is Spike angry at me?!  Have I done something wrong?" She implored to Willow in pitiful shock, like a loyal dog who had just been thrown out onto the streets by it's indifferent master.  "Is my outfit not attractive enough?!  Should I go change into something that would please him better?"  her mechanical lip trembled with painful confusion.  Willow only stared at her, her jaw moving up and down in a loss of any feasible explanation the robot could comprehend.

"Uh, no...no, it's not you." Giles said soothingly, walking over to rest an uncomfortable hand on her shoulder.  She whipped her head around to search his eyes, hair flying in golden locks around her throat.  

"I don't understand!" She cried.

"You didn't do anything wrong Buffy-bot." Willow said reassuringly.  "Ya see he...uh...the thing about Spike is...he's just..."

"On his period." Anya declared with irritation, rolling her eyes into her head.  

"Anya!" Willow cried in disgust.

"What?" she exclaimed defensively.  "It's not like you weren't all thinking it."

"Period?!" The bot cried frantically, looking from Giles, to Anya, and to Willow.  "Males do not have the required biological organs or hormonal capabilities to produce a menstrual cycle!" she exclaimed in sorrowful protest, her eyes watering with saline tears.

"What Anya means is," Xander interjected, coming up in front of her. "that Spike is just...having a really bad day....the way vampires tend to do."

"Yes!" Giles reinforced, rounding up the back.  "He's just in a terribly bad mood because..."

"He didn't sleep well." Willow concluded.  The  bot looked relieved and a little hopeful.  "I promise, by tomorrow he'll be...bad as new."   The group looked around at each other with nervous eyes and plastered smiles, praying that she would buy the excuse.             

"What happened?" Dawn asked, walking in the room and interrupting the moment.  "What's up with Spike?"

"He went to take a nap." The Buffy bot answered cheerfully.  The others let out the breath they had been holding. Dawn looked at the others quizzically.

"It's nothing Dawnie." Willow answered shaking her head.  "He'll be back later."

"Back, and hopefully much less psychotic." Xander said.

"Xander, please." Giles said reproachfully, removing his glasses and wiping them compulsively on his sweater.  "I's not as if we can't empathize with his reaction."

"Yah." Anya agreed.  "I mean, imagine if I were to die, and all you had was this machine, who looked like me, and felt like me, and wanted nothing but  mad, passionate, fantasy filled sex with you over, and over, and over, until your legs were like milky white pudding...but she didn't have any of the other things that made me...well...ya know, me."  

"And I can sign up for this where?" Xander replied jokingly to a thoroughly disgusted Giles. Anya swatted him in the back of the head.  Dawn surveyed the members of the house hold with raised eyebrows.  Buffy-bot watched the interaction with dumb, enthusiastic interest before calling out:

"Go-Go-Gadget STAKE!"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


	2. chapter 2

"If you think, for one second, that I'm gonna let you violate my face with that clown paint, you're out of your bleeding mind."   
  
"Fine. Then you have to take another zit." Dawn replied simply. Before Spike could protest, she reached across the Girl Talk game board which rested on the livingroom rug between them, and stuck another one of the jarringly red sticker pimples smack dab in the middle of his forehead. Spike closed his eyes, and sighed in utter humiliation. Dawn sat back down and grinned with satisfaction at his dot riddled face.  
  
"Think this is funny, do you?" Spike asked from his own Indian style position on the other side.  
  
"No. Not at all." She replied, biting her lip to keep herself from exploding in giggles. Spike stared back at her miserably with one eyebrow raised in doubt and a face filled with little red stickers, and she burst, making the house echo with her laughter.  
  
"But it woulda been way funnier if you'd just let me do the make-over."  
  
"Thaaaaat's right. Laugh it up. Have yourself a nice chuckle. Bet you won't be laughing so hard when every demon from here to the bloody hell mouth is thumping my--"  
  
"My turn!" Dawn interrupted before he could finish, snatching the spinning board and placing it in front of her. She flicked the arrow, and both parties leaned over in suspense, to determine her fate.  
  
"Call your crush on the telephone and ask if you can borrow a roll of toilet paper.  
  
Dawn's eyes widened in horror. Spike leaned back on his hands and grinned at her with evil pleasure. Without a word he reached behind him and snatched the phone, tossing it in her direction. Dawn glanced at it, and then back up at Spike. He looked at her with lips pursed, and eyebrows raised in expectancy.  
  
"Well? Go on then. Dial."  
  
"No...Way." Dawn replied, sliding the phone back in Spike's direction. "You're gonna have to kill me first."  
  
"You'd best mind what you say." He threatened, picking up a zit that had fallen, and sticking it aimlessly back on to his cheek. "I just might after all this."   
  
"Oh, you know your lovin it." Dawn answered cheerfully, sticking another dot onto her own face. Spike wriggled his forehead, feeling the irritating stickers.   
  
"For once, I'm glad I don't have a reflection." he commented in response to her giggles. "And remember: you squeak one word of this to the goodie-goodie gang, and young..." he paused to gaze at the name she had doodled, and surrounded with tiny hearts on the game board. "...Mark, here, gets a call, understand?" Dawn gasped in horror. "I'll maybe tell 'im bout a certain sprite I know who still pees the bed, yah?" he said, smiling proudly at himself for having invented such an offensive fabrication.  
  
"You wouldn't!" Dawn cried, narrowing her eyes.  
  
"Oh. I would." he replied in the lowest, most menacing voice he could muster. "Evil here, remember?" he added, pointing to himself. Dawn gulped, and then sighed in resignation.  
  
"Fine. My lips are zipped." she said, dragging her pinched fingers across her face.  
  
"Right then." Spike replied, satisfied. "Now pass me the bloody spinner. It's my turn."  
  
Spike woke a few hours later, bathed in the fuzzy glow of the television. He had fallen asleep while watching some show about a group of people who live in a large house for several months, and have their lives video taped for the duration of their stay. The last thing he remembered before drifting off to sleep was thinking how bloody stupid the whole lot of them were, and how the blonde girl with the large knockers looked very appetizing. With that memory his tummy began to growl, and he rose from his chair with the intention of getting a quart of blood from the fridge. When he glanced over to the dark couch to check on Dawn however, his heart leaped to his throat, quelling all notions of hunger: She was gone. Spike ran to lamp and switched it on. Where Dawn had been laying in a deep slumber only a few hours before, was now empty, and blood spattered her pillow. He felt his stomach drop, as panic seized him. After what felt like days, he found his voice, and called to her frantically.  
  
'Dawn?! Dawn!!!" He ran through the kitchen and dining room, finding nothing, and then ascended the stairs in a frenzy. As he raced through the hall, he noticed a dark figure on the bed in Buffy's room, and he swung in, flipping on the light. Relief flooded him in one heavy wave when he saw the brown haired girl sitting quietly on the edge of her sister's bed, healthy and uninjured. He stormed up to her and bent down, grabbing her by both arms.  
  
"Why in bloody hell didn't you answer me when I called?!" He demanded, shaking her lightly. "And what's the blood all about?!" He asked, searching her eyes.  
  
"I...I'm sorry...I had a bloody nose..." she said listlessly. "I went to the bathroom to wash up, and...I just...I came in here..." Spike sighed heavily, and sat down on the bed next to her, glancing around at the bedroom. Nothing had been touched since her death, as the room was normally occupied by the Buffy-bot, who recharged conveniently at night while the rest if the household was asleep.   
  
"I hate that thing being here." She said, looking out the window into the thick, syrupy blue. She could see her reflection cast by the dim lamp in the room, and the brighter hall light, but where Spike should have been was empty space. He knew she was talking about the robot. "Sometimes I hate it." she continued with a softer tone. "But most of the time, I'm glad it's around....because as long as it's here...it's like, I never have think about...that she's gone. Ya know?" She paused. "It's like, I can see her...and I can hear her...so I tell my self it's not true...I don't have to, ya know...face it." Her eyes watered, and tiny tears slid down her face, leaving glossy paths in their wake. "Every day I wake up..." her voice was like the call of a morning dove; heavy and low with sorrow, "And I just pretend she's still alive...that it's her...But I know deep down that it's not...and that feels..like...is that sick? Is there something wrong with me?" She asked fearfully, looking at Spike through blurry tears.  
  
He was speechless for a moment, unsure of what to say, and then, "No." There's nothing wrong with you." he answered, shaking his head. "D'you hear me?" She nodded weakly in compliance. "I think of it that way too, sometimes." he confided, scratching the back of his head awkwardly, and joining her gaze out the window. "As long as that bloody toaster oven with hair is bopping around..." He shrugged in a loss of the right words. "Then what happened that night...well, it didn't." He looked back to her, and she nodded, relieved that someone understood how she felt. Spike somehow always understood. Suddenly she began to shiver, as though her body just realized it was out of bed. She felt her head clear a little, but the pain in her chest remained. She gazed longingly at the framed photo of her sister that hung on the wall. The glass cast back the reflection of the light, but Buffy's face was hidden in shadow.  
  
"I just want her to come home." she wept. Spike didn't say anything. He only sat, unmoving, in silence, his face hidden in the soft shades of darkness. After a few moments he lifted his head up and breathed a heavy sigh. He reached behind him and snatched a blanket off Buffy's bed, slinging it around her shoulders and wrapping her up.   
  
"Come on Little Bit...let's get you back in your warm, comfy bed, yah?" he said, leading the young girl back downstairs into the warm dark of the night. 


	3. chapter 3

"She's doing good I think." Tara said, peeking out from behind the cold mausoleum.   
  
"Sure," Xander replied. "If you consider getting knocked around like you're in a giant pinball machine of death doing a good job, than yah! She's swell."  
  
"Well, her self-awareness skills and reaction time obviously need significant work, and her target's completely off...but it's nothing we can't train her to improve upon." Giles said with a hint of pessimism, as they watched the Buffy-Bot spar with three new born vamps that had raised only minutes before.  
  
"Umm...Giles? How exactly do you teach a robot about self awareness?" Willow asked with doubt.   
  
"Well, I don't know," he replied testily. "But we need to at least try if we expect this machine to pose as a believable substitute for..." he didn't finish.   
  
"But that means...she's going to have to be better than Buffy ever was...right?" Anya asked. "I mean...if she gets so much as a scratch through that giant, rubber body condom of hers, and they find wires instead of blood...our cover's blown. How the hell are we gonna pull that off?"  
  
"I have no bloody idea!" Giles snapped. "All I'm sure of is, this robot is our best chance at preventing a total upheaval of the demonic world." The others looked away. " Please, if anyone else has something better to offer, feel free to speak up." He looked around expectantly. Noone did.   
  
"It's just...it seems so...impossible." Willow explained gently.   
  
"I understand that...but–"  
  
"Um...guys... I think maybe we should–" Tara interrupted, pointing to the fight. The Bot had been captured by two of the vampires who held her arms securely behind her back, while the other vampire beat her, laying kicks into her mid section and face. He leaned in for the kill, pulling her head aside by her hair to expose her latex throat.   
  
"Back!" Willow cried, thrusting her arms forward. A thick stream of crackling, florescent blue energy shot from her palms. The streak of magic raced towards the vampires, and then spidered out into three separate tendrils, each blasting one in the chest, and sending him flying backwards. Without words, the scoobies rushed the scene. Xander and Giles tackled one of the downed creatures, Willow Tara and Anya took on the second, while a recovering Buffy-bot charged the third.   
  
"Did I ever tell ya I was a champion soccer player back in highschool?" Xander huffed, charging the vamp full force. With every ounce of determination and courage in his body, Xander Harris raised his foot to make contact with vampire's chin, but instead, slipped on the soggy grass beneath him, and went flying upward. He landed with a sickening thud on his back. "Ok. I lied!" He groaned, as the vampire descended upon him, but Giles was to the rescue, coming up from behind the demon while it stood crouched over. He slammed his stake hard into its back, piercing the heart with perfection. The vampire twisted around and cried in pain before disintegrating into a thin coat of blackened dust. Giles reached down and grasped Xander's hand, pulling him up off the wet, cold ground. "Ok, not one of my shining moments." he panted in utter humiliation, brushing the dust off his clothes. "Can we please pretend it never happened?"  
  
"Pretend what never happened?" Giles asked.  
  
"Lord Bless your merciful heart!"  
  
The girls were having an arguably better time with their vampire, which appeared immobile from the waste down, as though his legs were trapped in an invisible block of cement. Green flecks of magic rotated in sporadic circles around his body, and Willow seemed to be the one responsible with her arms outstretched and a funnel of green, coiling energy flowing from her fingertips. Tara was circling the extraordinarily cranky vampire with stake in hand, but every time she attempted stab him, he would flail his arms towards her and snarl, causing her to leap back with a squeal. Anya watched from a few feet away, offering little besides her exuberant verbal support.   
  
"No! You've gotta get–! No, not like that! You're doing it all wrong!!" She cried, making dramatic stabbing motions with her hand. "The heart! Get the heart!!"  
  
"I'm trying! I'm trying!!" Tara grunted, making another frustrated lunge. "Your more than welcome to come show me how it's done!"   
  
Anya's eyes bugged at the thought.  
  
"You're doin great sunshine! Keep at it! You're a tiger!" she replied quickly, replacing her invisible stake with a double thumbs up.  
  
"Tara!" Giles called, reaching inside his coat and pulling out a small, loaded cross bow. She whipped her head around to the sound of his voice, and he tossed it into her outstretched arms. "Just pull the trigger!" She nodded quickly, and turned to the angry vamp who was spitting obscenities about what he would to do to her mother once he escaped. She aimed, and then looked quickly to Willow who gave her a nod of encouragement.   
  
"Hurray up baby! I can't hold this much longer!"   
  
She took a deep breath and fired. It was a clean shot straight through the heart, and the vamp screamed as he crumbled into nothingness.   
  
"I did it!" Tara cheered in shock. "I staked my first vampire!"  
  
"I'm so proud of you sweety!" Willow beamed with pride, wrapping her arm around Tara's waist and kissing her lips.   
  
"Thanks." She replied with a smile, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her hear.  
  
"Lucky shot." Anya coughed.  
  
"I'll show you who's the biggest bad of all!" The Buffy bot cried as she scrapped with the last vampire. The others turned to the fight, almost having forgotten about her in the confusion of their own battles. Suddenly, With all the strength of a live slayer, the bot leaped up and landed a spinning kick directly to the vampire's face. He flew backwards and landed with a crack against a large tomb stone. With the demon still dazed, Buffy Bot went for the kill. " Crime doesn't pay, Buster!" she cried sanctimoniously, jamming her wooden stake into the vamp's chest with perfect aim. The creature quietly poofed outward into a soft rain of dust. The robot nodded her head decidedly at a job well done, and turned to the others who stood staring gape-jawed at the impressive kill.  
  
"I think she'll do." Willow said. The others nodded with compliance, their eyes still fixed on the bot, who looked around at the group with a dumb grin.   
  
"Was that satisfactory?" she asked around hopefully.  
  
"Uh, yes. Yes! You did a splendid job Buffy...bot." Giles reassured her.  
  
"Yah, you were swell!" Anya agreed. "Your moves were right on the money, ya little go-getter."  
  
"Why thank you Anya!" The Bot replied. "You enjoy money!" Anya snorted.   
  
"Your preachin' to the choir sister."  
  
"Quiet!" Giles hissed, interrupting the chatter. The rest of the scoobies followed his gaze across the glistening cemetery. Their eyes landed on two vampires occupying space in front a tomb stone about 10 yards away. Each had a shovel, and one was methodically plunging it into the soft, grassless earth of a fresh grave, while they conversed with excitement. As the scoobies neared, the creatures' hyper voices hit them with clarity, but they didn't need to hear what was being said to understand the situation that was playing out before them. Illuminated by the moonlight, Buffy's friends watched in horror as their Slayer's resting place was desecrated.  
  
"Man, I told you she was dead!" The brown haired vampire said as he removed dirt from the cold ground. His blonde headed companion circled the small head stone in shock and amazement, reading the name engraved upon it over and over, to reassure himself it was true.  
  
"I can't believe it! This is like...huge, man! No more slayer! We are gonna own this town." He growled, relishing in his new found liberation.  
  
"First thing we're gonna do, is rip her to shreds." The blonde vampire nodded enthusiastically in agreement, licking his lips in anticipation. " Then I'm gonna tear her head off, and jam it on the end of this shovel." He breathed between heaves, a hungry grin crawling its way onto his face. "We're gonna take it down town...show the others that they don't have to be afraid anymore... that Sunnydale is FUCKED!" His companion cackled at the thought.  
  
"Yah man...It's fucked, and it's ours."  
  
"I beg to differ." Giles said, thrusting a stake into the chief violator before he had a chance to turn around. He dusted instantly as the others came running up. The blonde vampire spotted the Buffy Bot immediately. "Oh, shit man!" He cried, taking off at lightening speed, but Buffy Bot slung her stake with unstoppable force, and it pierced his chest, sending him flying face forward in the air. He was dust before his body could make contact with ground. The threat having been removed, the others inched closer to the vulgar scene.   
  
"Oh God..." Willow moaned, bile rising in the back of her throat. Enough dirt had been removed so that the top of Buffy's coffin was now exposed to the chilled night air.  
  
"Oh baby, don't look! Come here." Tara pulled Willow close to her, cradling her head in her hands. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Willow was again amazed by this woman. Tara handled any situation, however horrible, with a soothing grace that was akin to aloe on soar and burning skin.  
  
"Christ..." Xander mumbled, putting his hand to his face in an attempt to hold back his nausea The nausea won, however, and he staggered a few feet away, doubling over to vomit in a nearby bush.   
  
"We should...we need to fix this up before someone else sees..." Anya reasoned, battling her own disgust. Giles stood frozen in time; his eyes were fixed on the scene, but his mind was distant. He remained in his detached universe until Buffy Bot spoke up, a thin, cheery voice that had no place in the morbid taboo.   
  
"Buffy...Anne...Summers...That's me! Am I down there? I mean...the other me." she explained, as to clear up any confusion. "I hope I'm not afraid of the dark." Willow sobbed into Tara's warm, comforting body.  
  
"This is a nightmare." Xander mumbled miserably, putting his hands on his head.  
  
"Get out of here, all of you." Giles ordered. His was voice shaking, but cold as stone. "I'll take care of this."  
  
"But Giles –" Anya interjected.  
  
"Just go!" He barked, making the others jump. "Quickly...before someone else finds it." His voice was teetering on the edge of something fierce and deep, so the remaining scoobies gathered each other, along with the Bot, and made there way slowly out of the grave yard. When there were out of site, Giles picked up the shovel from the ground and turned his face to the icy moonlight, separating himself further from reality. He knew it was the only way he would get through this task. When all feeling was locked securely away, and the key tossed into the black hole in his heart, he buried his slayer for the second time. 


End file.
